Beaten Out of Love
by wordlessly
Summary: We're all broken. But once in a while, someone sees the light shinning through your cracks… NOW ALL JEROME & MARA, RE-READ AND FIND OUT!
1. Chapter 1

Her soft brown eyes sparkled as she giggled into his chest. He slowly turned his head to face hers and stole a kiss upon her perfect heart-shaped pink lips. This kiss was soft, short, and sweet. Her lips slowly lingered off his. Her eyes fluttered open, they were filled with love and compassion. She looked into his eyes and searched for an answer. She was looking for something; anything that proved to her he loved her back. She didn't want to believe it was hopeless. His hand rose and gently caressed her cheek. She lightly placed her small hand over his. Yet, he could not look her into her eyes. She sensed something was wrong.

"Speak to me," she whispered.

"Mara, baby, if only it were that easy," he said while letting out a slight chuckle.

"It can be." Her voice was stern and serious. She looked down into her lap and backed away from him. She backed into the couch still unable to receive an answer. She looked back up with desperation in her eyes. "I'm your girlfriend. You can tell me anything Brian. Anything." She flashed him a caring smile in hope he would finally break and tell her

"I slept with Alison," he choked out.

In that moment, everything froze. Those four words kept repeating in Mara's head. I slept with Alison. I slept with Alison. I slept with Alison. Her eyes widen as the words began to sink in. She could feel her heart breaking, crumbling into a million little pieces. Her stomach began to turn. Everything started falling apart. She could feel the monstrous pain that was boiling in her heart. The outside world began to blur. She started to breath heavily as she rose from the couch.

"You asshole!" Mara hollered as she slapped Brian across the face. It took everything she had not to cry right then there. Leaving the living room, she ran straight up the stairs and into her dormitory bedroom. She threw herself onto her bed and let everything out. "I hate you!" she yelled as tears fell from her eyes. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" she furiously spoke as she violently punched her pillow. Her tears began to sting as they left her eyes. She had never felt so worthless, unloved, unwanted, and disgusting in her life.

_It's because she's blonde_, Mara thought to herself. _It's because she's prettier than me. She's more fun to be with. She everything I'm not._ Her sobs began to grow louder. Then, realizing she did not lock the door, she looked up and noticed the screech of the turning doorknob. She thought about wiping her tears but realized it was useless. Even with her vision blurred from the poisonous tears filling her eyes, she could distinguish the eyes that began to peek through her slightly open door. Those crystal blue eyes got her every time, looking right into her soul. They were breathtaking. They were his eyes. They could only belong to that one tortured soul. The misunderstood Jerome Clark.

"Go away," as the word escaped her lips she immediately regretted them. She didn't want him to go away. She needed someone now more than ever.

"Mara, I heard you screaming. The whole house knows about the break up. I just wanted to see how you were doing," Jerome said softly with a hint of sympathy and thoughtfulness in his voice. Without breaking eye contact, he walked over to Mara's bed and smiled. It was a sweet smile, not the mischievous smirk he usually has. With one look at him, she couldn't help but smile too. He sat down at the foot of her bed and said, "How about you tell me how you're feeling?"

Mara sniffled before saying, "Since when do you care? You must either seriously high or diluted."

"I just—I know how it feels," he whispered.

Her eyes shot up and starred directly into his. Jerome caring about anything or anyone that did not benefit him was a difficult thought to process. He had a reputation, and it wasn't one to be proud of. He was known for only caring about his weed and sleeping with every girl he possibly could. Girls found him difficult to resist. He was tall, muscular, and always knew exactly what to say. His shaggy blonde hair fell slightly above his gorgeous blue eyes when it wasn't spiked up like today. His defined abs peeked through his white t-shirt that fit him perfectly. His tight, black jeans hugged his legs in all the right places. He was impeccably handsome. He was also impossibly smart, scoring high grades in all his classes, whenever he bothered to show up. Nevertheless, he was bad news around campus. Many rumors traveled around about screwing the teachers for his grades or going to jail for murder, stealing, or getting caught with illegal drugs. He wasn't one to show any signs of human emotion, he was just there most of the time.

"He slept with Alison," Mara barely whispered.

Jerome was shocked, "Don't cry," he said. "Mara, he isn't worth it." Jerome's words were soothing, but not enough to make her feel better.

"I just- I feel so stupid for liking him. Ugh, I feel so worthless. Jerome, you wouldn't understand."

He walked to the foot of her bed, placed his hand on her shoulder and softly said, "You're not the worthless one."

And that was the first time Mara saw Jerome Clark as a person, and all she wanted to do was see that light in him again. Maybe, just maybe, if there was hope for him, there was hope for us all.

* * *

The illuminating Sun filled Mara's room with a bright yellow gaze as it rose above the horizon. Peaking through the window, the morning Sun caused Mara's eyes to open. Her roommate, Amber, was still sound asleep. Mara quietly rose from her bed and led herself to the bathroom. While rinsing her face with cold, refreshing water, the memories of last night began to flood her mind. After rapidly brushing her teeth and changing, Mara rushed to find Jerome. She knew exactly where he was. She knew that every Saturday morning he rose at the crack of dawn and escaped to the forgotten garden of Bayside Academy. She had spotted him do so since they first began living in Maxwell Hall.

The grass lightly tickled her toes as she ran barefoot through the garden, in hope of finding Jerome. He was by the glorious fountain, exactly where she had hoped. He lay peacefully on the grass, facing the fountain. The sun gracefully kissed his body, giving him a great golden glow. His eyes set on the bright yellow glow of the Sun, almost as if he was searching for something, some kind of answer. She had never witnessed him so solemn. It brought a smile to her face. She approached the fountain in great caution, not wanting to disturb Jerome.

"Can I help you?" came a stern voice.

Mara flinched, then looked down to see Jerome's eyes glaring dead at her. He placed his hands behind his head and raised his brow, "Well?"

"Jerome, about yesterday..." Mara trailed off.

Jerome signed and picked himself up from the grass and on to his feet. He kneeled down and picked up his soft, grey t-shirt. Unable to meet Mara's intense gaze, he let out a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. "Won't you mind telling me how the hell did you know I'd be here? Are you stalking me?"

"I just wanted to thank you," Mara whispered.

"There is no need. Now goodbye," Jerome rudely said as he walked past Mara.


	2. Chapter 2

Maxwell Hall was a fairly a pleasant dorm to live in. The dorm was surrounded by thick green grass, with a pathway of crisp red brick that lead to the front door. The door was a solid white that accentuated the faded blue exterior. Maxwell Hall was the newest, yet smallest dormitory in Bayside Academy. It was small and designed to look like a house, including a living room, dining room, kitchen, two bathrooms, and four bedrooms. The dorm was home to eight of the school brightest students: Amber Millington, Joy Mercer, Linda Malcolm, Mara Jaffary, Mason Duncan, Andrew Phillips, Mick Campbell, and Jerome Clark. Inside the house the walls in the living room were painted white. There was a giant orange couch and two similar smaller couches with colorful throw pillows assorted around a brown coffee table facing the television. The house also included a large vintage dining table with eight chairs. There was a standard kitchen with a small television the students saved up for. In the basement, there was a bathroom and two bedrooms, one for Andrew and Mick and the other for Mason and Jerome. The second floor had an identical design; one bedroom belonged to Joy and Linda, while Amber and Mara shared the other.

"Jerome is such a piece of work," Mara muttered as she entered her bedroom, slamming the door shut.

"You're just figuring that out?" Amber asked while laughing at her roommate. "Where did you go so early this morning anyway?"

Mara glanced over at Amber as she made her way to her bed, "Doesn't matter. Can we not talk about it?"

"You know what you need?" Amber shouted excitedly. "You, my friend, need a girls night out! Today is the perfect day. We can go shopping right after lunch, with Joy and Linda of course. Oh, and tonight we can sneak of campus and party! I heard of this new dance placed that opened not to long ago."

"I don't know…" Mara trailed off.

"No, its perfect! I'll arrange everything now," Amber said as she rushed out to the hallway, most likely making her way to tell Joy and Linda her plans for today.

Even though Amber was Mara's best friend, they are almost polar opposites. Amber Millington was what some might refer to as the Queen B—"b" for bitch that is. She was tall, blonde, and beautiful—a worth wild combination. She was brilliant, funny, and good at everything she did, including taking advantage of the ones around her for her own best interest. That's the way Amber always had to have it: everything was to her own best interest, see where the bitch comes in? On the other hand, Mara's talents were limited to her schoolwork. She was a short brunette, who knew almost nothing about the outside world. Although she was not shy, she's not exactly valiant and confident like Amber. Mara liked to stay in her own world and rarely let anyone in. Yet somehow these girls managed to remain friends, maybe it was because Mara always did what Amber insisted.

Still reluctant about her friend's plans, Mara kept her mouth shut and walked down stairs to the kitchen. Being a Saturday morning, most of her male housemates were asleep and the girls were still chatting upstairs, so the kitchen was supposed to be empty. However, Mara found Jerome at the refrigerator grabbing an apple. Ignoring Mara's company, Jerome made his way to the living room, turned on the television, and began watching outdated Saturday morning cartoons.

"I wonder what goes on in that head of his," Mara whispered to herself as she began making herself breakfast.

"We're going to miss the cab! Mara, get out! Do you know how long it took me to even get permission to leave campus? Hurry up!" Amber shrieked from outside. Joy and Linda were already sitting in the cab, anxiously waiting for their trip to the mall. The students of Bayside Academy rarely ever had permission to leave the school without a parent or guardian taking them out. However, living in Maxwell Hall had its perks. With enough persuasion, the residents of Maxwell Hall could get away with leaving campus once a month without parents, as long as they didn't brag about it to the other students.

"Amber, you guys are just going to have to go out without me. I'm really not in the mood for this. Don't make me, please. I really just need some time to myself," Mara persisted from the doorway. "If you're my friend, you wouldn't make me do something I don't want to."

Amber gave the low-spirited girl a small smile before turning around and heading to the cab. "Feel better!" Linda shouted as she rolled down the car window. With a slight nod, Mara turned around before the cab could leave and entered the house. Before she had the chance to run up to her room, she spotted Mick sleeping on the couch and decided to have some fun. Unlike Mason and Andrew, Mick wasn't your typical nerd. He was energetic, funny, and very social. Mara had always had a little crush on him, until she met Brian. To her, Mick was the perfect person to be around. He never made her feel bad about herself. She also found him to be very cute. He was around average height, had dirty blond hair, and sparkly green eyes. The one thing that kept her away form him was the fact that he has been dating Joy for almost a year.

Right as Mara was about to scare him awake, she stopped in her tracks as her attention was drawn elsewhere. "_This is all your fault_!" she heard coming from the basement. She knew that voice. Her instinct took over as she snuck to the basement, tiptoeing her way downstairs. "_I hate you_," came the voice again. "Whom could he be talking to?" Mara questioned to herself. "_You can't make me!_" This time Mara could clearly tell he was sobbing. Inching closer to Jerome's door, Mara heard his weary weeps and then _SLAM!_ She could tell that something had been thrown. Realizing this wasn't her place; Mara decided to sneak back upstairs. _He is none of my concern_, she thought to herself.

* * *

Ignoring the shattered pieces of his broken mirror on the floor, Jerome shuffled through his book bag desperately looking for a piece of paper and a pen. "Now that Grandma's gone, there is no reason for any of this anymore," Jerome spoke to himself. His uncontrollable tears were causing his vision to blur, making finding a pen even more challenging. Once a pen was in his hands, he sat at his desk and began to write.

**Mom**** Joan Clark,**

**I want you to know all the pain you've caused me. **

He needed to let this out; his beloved Grandmother's death was the last straw. He was finally done with his parents, school, and his life.

**Every morning I look at myself in the mirror and I don't like what I see. I despise the person I am. You've always looked at me as a disappointment, I'm sure you're happy to hear that I know you're right. All I've ever managed to do was ruin your life. I messed everything up for you. You'd say I'm disgusting; you'd call me filth. I was dirt in your eyes. You never once thought of me as your son, just a burden. You never loved me, but I guess that doesn't matter now. My time has come. I'm tired of being unloved. I am tired of being ignored and forgotten. I'm tired of living a life I cannot handle. I can't stand keeping all these walls up so people will never know who I am. I feel so empty inside. Nothing fills the giant void. I smoke, I do drugs, I've been with countless girls, but nothing helps. You've ruined me inside, and that is something that can never be fixed. I hate you. I hate Dad. Yet, I can feel myself turning into a rotten person like the two of you. **

_I've always been rotten_, he thought to himself. _You've beaten me out of love._

**I will never forgive either of you. I will never forgive Dad for constantly beating me as child. I will never forgive you for making me feel worthless. You're not a mother; you're a monster. And you've turned me into a monster as well. The pain isn't worth it when the only person I was living for is gone. I must visit Grandma now. You don't deserve a goodbye; so think of this as good riddance. Now you can be happy.**

As he wiped away one final tear, the miserable boy signed the letter.

**Bye, Jerome Clark – it's been hell. **

He turned the paper around and searched for the accursed razor that he hasn't touched in over three years. He absentmindedly shuffled through overdue schoolwork and old photos that lay on his desk. Banging his stiff clenched fist on to the table in frustration of not finding the only item that would take him out of his misery. A slight glow came to his eyes when he noticed how the Moon's deep radiance shadowed over a mirror-like object. While hesitantly reaching for his razor, he noted a sliver chain glowing in the dim light. It was the silver chain his mother gave him the day he left for boarding school. It was given to him so he wouldn't forget his mother and where he came from. _She never thought I wanted to forget_, Jerome thought to himself. _That's all I ever wanted_. Without a slight drop of uncertainty, he grabbed the razor and gripped in firmly in his hands. His hand shook as he brought the treacherous weapon to the white, fresh flesh of his wrist. A waterfall of tears began tears pouring form the boy's miserable eyes. _I've been strong for so long_, he thought. _Far too long. _With gasps and shaky breaths, he brought the razor closer to the one vein that would end his life. His heart rate rose to as fast as the thrumming wings of a caged bird. He was about to do it. Any second now Jerome Clark would end his wretched life. "Ahh!" he cried. Just as he was about to dig the gruesome knife into his boiling sweaty skin, he dropped the razor to rigid floor beneath him. _After Grandma's funeral tonight_, he thought to himself.

* * *

"No; not that; Mara are you serious?" Amber said as she looked up from painting her nails to see her best friends' outfit choices for tonight. "I'll just pick something out for you!"

_Of course she thinks I'm incapable of doing anything_, Mara thought to herself as she rolled her eyes and moved away from her closet, letting Amber hastily look through her clothes. Amber had a disgusted look on her as she looked through the clothes she's seen countless times before. _And now she'll say I have nothing to wear and make me wear one of her numerous slutty dress_, Mara thought. Disapprovingly, Amber walked toward her own closet and instantaneously pulled out a rather too short, sleeveless, black lace dress.

"You've got to be kidding me! That's not even you're size!" Mara bewilderedly hollered.

"That's why it's for you!" Amber said with excitement. "Just try it on. You'll love it, I promise."

With slight hesitation, Mara began changing into the dress. She was never one to wear a dress that showed off her body too much. She kept her clothing choices shy and reserved. _Until tonight_, Mara said to herself. As she looked into mirror, wearing Amber's dress, she saw a different person. This wasn't timid little Mara; the person that looked back at her was brave, confident, and above all beautiful. For the first time since her breakup, Mara felt whole again. She turned toward Amber and said, "I can't wear this tonight." Amber nodded and Mara changed into a pair of burgundy leather pants and a black sleeveless shirt. She wasn't going to turn into another version of Amber. Tonight, she would be a more self-assured Mara.


	3. Chapter 3

The back pavement was glimmering in the moonlight, the lights coming from surrounding dormitories seemed to give off warmth, and even the old cab behind of her seemed ravishing. Nothing could ruin tonight. _This going to be my night_, Mara thought to herself.

Mara, Amber, Linda, Joy, Mick all gave each other one finally glace before heading for the entrance of _Never Ageing. _As soon as they entered their eardrums were overpowered by loud, infectious music. The dance club was dark apart from the multicolored flashing florescent lights. The atmosphere was electrifying and thrilling. The five teens were ecstatic as they reached the dance floor. Without a thought in the world, they all danced their worries away. Laughing and singing along, they all silently hoped this was going to be a memorable, fun filled night.

"How'd you manage to find this place? It's even twenty-one and younger!" Mara yelled and she tipsily followed Amber to the bar. Amber didn't acknowledge her presence and began flirting with the bartender in hopes of a free drink. _Of course_, Mara thought. Lonely, Mara began to look around for her other friends. Linda was dancing to close for comfort with a mysterious man, while Joy and Mick couldn't keep their hands off each other as they passionately made out at the other side of the bar. With a glimpse of jealous in her eyes, Mara turned back to the dance floor and broke down. Being unable to face the embarrassment, she ran out the back exit in the dark night.

"What's wrong with me?" Mara questioned herself between sobs. She fell to her knees, unable to calm down. "I'm a worthless piece of shit. I can't handle any of this. What the hell was thinking coming here tonight?" she murmured into her knees and she pulled them tightly to her chest. "No one fucking cares about my existence. That's why I'm ignored and cheated on. I'm never good enough." Mara continued bawling and crying until she was calm enough to call a cab.

* * *

"Fucking worse night of my life," Jerome said to himself and he loosened his tie and took off his belt. He sat down on his bed and dropped his head down to his palms. He had just arrived back form his grandmother's heart-breaking funeral. "How could such a wonderful woman give birth to such a monster?" Jerome questioned as the kind words spoken by his family members earlier that night replayed in his head. At least she died a peacefully death, one in her sleep where she could not feel any pain. _She deserved that much_, Jerome thought. He glanced at his alarm, which read 10:12. He knew Andrew and Mason were out studying until midnight and the rest of his housemates were at a dance club. This was the perfect time. "Time to go to Grandma," Jerome whispered.

* * *

With her heels in her hands, makeup running, and hair a mess, Mara stumbled through the doorway of Maxwell Hall. She placed her heels softly on the floor and slowly closed the front door, not wanting to wake any of her housemates. She tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. "You are such a fucking loser!" Mara heard from the distance. _Clash!_ The glass in her hand had turned into sharp, piercing bits of crystal shards on the marble floor below her. "You're such a pussy!" _Where could that be coming from?_ Mara questioned to herself. Walking around the broken glass, Mara placed her ear on the basement door. She could hear booming footstep rushing up the stairs. Hesitantly, she took a few steps back from the door and braced herself for the person's arrival. The door handle creaked, opening the door and revealing a shadowy figure.

"J-Jerome," Mara stuttered. For the first time her in life, Mara was at a loss for words_. Jerome Clark_, she thought. _The one person who always seems so strong has never looked so weak._ His intoxicating, crystal blue eyes were red and puffy. His eyes were full of sorrow. Behind his intense gaze stood a troubled young man, a man Jerome tried hard to hide. Hiding his pain and misery not only from others, but also from himself.

"Dammit! What are you doing here?" Jerome bluntly said, quickly changing the expression on his. His sadness was guarded again.

"Are you okay? I heard screaming and I got nervous," Mara said, not daring to look him in the eye.

Looking at the floor beneath him, Jerome slightly chuckled, "So nervous that you broke a cup?" Mara blushed. In that moment, she couldn't even remember the reason she was upset, the reason she came crying home, or even the reason she dropped the cup. All she could think about was Jerome's laugh. It was cute and light and innocent, the only innocent thing about him. "How about I clean this up and you go change?" Jerome asked. Mara nodded and darted out of the kitchen. "Now she can't ask any questions," Jerome spoke proudly to himself. _Her blush_, he thought, _it was rather cute. _He got down on his knees and gently picked up a shard of glass. He lifted the shard to his eye and examined how it sparkled against the low moonlight that was reflecting through the kitchen window. It reminded him of the razor he held in hands just moments ago, it reminded him of how weak he was. Steadily, he brought the sharp shard of glass to his wrist. He dug the glass into his skin and slowly cut across, focusing on every bit of red blood that pooled out of his flesh. Then, he raised the bloody glass over the white tiles of the kitchen floor. The glass glistened as a bright, red drop of blood fell the to floor. He brought the glass back to his wrist and focused on the stinging of his cut. _If I couldn't kill myself tonight_, Jerome thought, _I deserve to be punished_.

Meanwhile, Mara was rushing to get changed out of her very unMara outfit. As she got into her pajamas, she remembered what forced her to come home earlier that night. Her smile instantly fell, as did her mood. She silently stared at her reflection in the mirror and found herself thinking if she was upset over Brian or maybe Mick. But, when lost in your thoughts, it's hard to lie to yourself. She was upset at herself. Not because she was lonely and sad, but because lead herself to a world of sorrow. And somewhere along the way, she lost direction of how to get out.


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks. It has been two weeks and Mara has yet to let the thought of Jerome escape her mind. As she ate her breakfast that hot morning, she couldn't help but notice the bitter coldness that slithered from Jerome's presence. They haven't talked, but it was about time to change that. He was all too interesting to Mara, someone she never gave much concern to before the day he walked into her room when no one else seemed to care. He was a dangerous combination of simple yet complicated, a combination Mara was internally similar with, which was probably the reason she was so keen on "figuring him out"—it might help her figure herself out. Its either that or Mara Jaffary was tired of being the shy, inexperienced girl no one noticed, and Jerome Clark was precisely the person to change that.

As she placed her empty cereal bowl in the sink, Mara took a glimpse at Jerome sitting in between Mick and Mason. His eyes slowly glanced up, meeting Mara's graze. He smirked and lightly shook his head. Mara quickly looked away. _It's the smirk_, Mara thought. _It's always his smug, arrogant smirk. He never genuinely smiles. _

Jerome rose from his chair and made his way to the sink. He stood behind Mara, slightly bent forward with his mouth only inches away from her ear, "You've been checking me out?" he seductively whispered. With every speck of his hot breath that hit Mara's skin, more goose bumps started to rise. She wanted now more than ever to look him in the eye and say something sexy like, "Maybe I was, and maybe I wasn't. Is that a problem?" She wanted to show him something that would interest him, give her an entrance to his shielded life. But all that could come out was a faint "No".

"Oh well that's a shame because maybe I was checking you out," Jerome said taking a step back. He let out a small chuckle and winked.

_This is your chance to get to know him, figure out the mysterious Jerome Clark, _Mara thought_. Or at least befriend him before his intensive stare swipes away your virginity. _"How- how are you?" Mara asks.

"That's one hell of a pick up line you got there," Jerome laughs. _Isn't she just a bundle of innocence_, he thinks. "I'm great, and you?"

"Better."

_That makes one of us_, Jerome thinks. "Listen, Mara, I'm no trashy rebound, regardless of what you might hear," Jerome smugly stated as he walked by her, grabbed his backpack, and left for school, leaving Mara wide-eyed and embarrassed.

Taking his usual walk through campus, Jerome 's mind was once again brought back to that night two weeks ago. It's hard to escape yourself when you're always around yourself. His thoughts are rough ocean waves: inescapable, vast, and deadly, beating down at him until his last breath. He had cut himself and faked a smile everyday since his grandmother's funeral. _Nobody is real anymore_, he thought. _I'm just as fake as the rest of them. We all live paper lives in this paper world. _He reached into his pocket and pulled out his silver chain, still unsure of why he's kept it all these years._ I guess it reminds me of the abuse I'll never escape._

"Yo Clark!" he hears from a distance. Jerome quickly stuffs the chain back into his pocket and turns around to see Dustin running toward him. They weren't exactly friends, since Jerome didn't consider anyone truly his friend, but Dustin was a great person to get high with. Jerome nodded at him and said, "Sup?"

Dustin slowed down and stopped in front of Jerome, smiling and said, "There's a party across campus tonight. Nothing too big, but they'll be out of campus girls for us there, bro. You in?"

"Bring the booze and I'm there," Jerome winked and continued walking to school. _It's about time for an escape._

* * *

_Just one more shot_, Jerome thought. _What will one more shot hurt? I do them all time. Feeling nothing is better than feeling pain. _The music was pounding in his head and he could barely keep his vision straight, but frankly, Jerome Clark did not give a shit. He turned from the table and examined the girls at the party - all weak and wasted; the easiest one's to get with. _Let's go for a challenge tonight_, he thought.

Two hours later, Jerome found himself sneaking back into Maxwell Hall through the first floor bathroom window. He tired to dive in head first, but his vision was hazy and he ended up greeting the sink with his face. With his legs flopping out the window and his head in the sink, Jerome's drunken mind found it to be the appropriate time to burst into laughter. He had done this countless time before, and countless times before he has held his alcohol better. With steady breaths Jerome managed to stand up straight, _I'm not some drunken idiot_, he thought to himself. He opens the door and the first thing his eyes meet is a messy-haired, tired-eyed Mara.

"We all know you seek out, why not just take the front door?" she asks.

"Where's the adventure in that?" Jerome shouts. "And anyway, what are you doing here? Love spying on good ol' Jerome Clark. But it looks like I'm not so good after all, and you're not going to find the goodness in me. It doesn't exist; it died a long time ago. I know girls like you, trying to 'fix' the broken guy, change him and make him 'whole' again. Instead of fixing me, you should be congratulating me."

"So you hook up with a random stranger and now you expect me to congratulate you?" Mara bewilderedly questions.

"It was fun!" Jerome laughs, still receiving a confused look from Mara. "Listen, how many guys have you kissed?"

"I don't know, two maybe."

"And wasn't did fun?"

"No," Mara firmly states. "It wasn't fun because there was nothing behind those kisses, there was no feeling. No feeling equals no fun."

"No feeling," Jerome repeats, "equals no mess." He turns away from Mara and beings to walk toward the basement door.

"I don't intend on fixing or changing you or whatever," Mara says, causing Jerome to pause in his tracks. Hopeful, Mara continues, "I just want to be friends."

Jerome rolls his eyes and keeps walking. _Friends, my ass. _She watches him walk to the basement door until a feeling of cold loneliness overtakes her. Mara rushes to the stairs and darts to her bedroom. She slowly opens in the door, in hope that Amber won't hear. Before she makes to her bed, a voice calls out saying, "Please don't say you're into that manwhore"

Mara was slightly taken aback before realizing her roommate was awake. "I'm not into him," she stated as she climbed into her bed. "I'm just a little interested in that world of his, you know? Being all badass and rebellious, doing stupid things you'll regret later. I'm starting to get tired of being the one who always does the right thing."

Amber slightly laughed to herself before saying, "But that's who you are!"

"Maybe I don't know who I am yet?" Mara questioned. "Or maybe I want a change in pace? I don't want to be that girl that gets pushed over and cheated on anymore."

"Honey, that's nice and all, but you are to realize that there are two types of people in this world," Amber said. "There are leaders, like me, of course. And then there are followers, like you. Now it's nothing to be ashamed of, leaders need someone to control."

_And there you go stepping right over me_, Mara thought. Without another world, Mara closes her eyes and tries to block out everything she has just heard.

* * *

The usual weekday morning in Maxwell Hall consists of a group breakfast with Amber at the head of the table talking to Linda and Mara, while Mason and Andrew discuss homework and books amongst themselves, and Mick and Joy flirt and hold hands. Usually Jerome is the last one to come to the table and the first one to leave, barely acknowledging the others. But this was no usual morning. Amber had overslept; Mick and Joy wouldn't look at each other; Mason, Andrew, and Linda were watching TV and Jerome was nowhere to be found. All leaving Mara to sit at the dining room table alone, unable to shake the feeling of loneliness off, even with all the noise and people surrounding her. She could only hear a dull silence. She could only see a blur in front of her. She could only feel the numbness returning in her heart.

"I need to go," she told her roommates. "I'm leaving." But it was as if no one could hear her, like she would walk by but no one could see her. She was simply there. She was unimportant, invisible, and useless. She opens the front door and slams in shut behind her, making her way out into the bitter coldness of an early fall morning. She is without a jacket, and yet she feels nothing. To her there is no harsh breeze or chill down her spine, there is only emptiness. She stands solemnly and takes in her surrounding: the crisp fall leaves, the sky and the illuminating sun within it, and the birds flying in the sky with their soft chirps. But it is as if she is not there. She feels like a speck in oblivion, the dullest star, or the bird that can't fly. She's an outsider, the missing piece that doesn't fit the picture. And for the first time, she has taken it in and was ready to change it.

Meanwhile, Jerome and a couple of classmates he barely knew had sneaked off into the clearing in the woods for some morning fun. They all sat around carelessly laughing and smoking. Jerome took in a puff and exhaled it slowly through his nose, the smoke slithering its way out. He leaned back, supporting his upper body with his arms and stared at the sky. His eyes glistened in the light of immensity, calming and relaxing. Yet, all he could feel was the ache in his heart and the agony in his chest, dark and consuming all of him. He brought the cigarette to his mouth and took another puff. He held his breath and clenched his fist, crushing the cigarette and releasing its ashes into the breeze. He let the smoke out through his mouth and thought, _it just doesn't work like it use to. _The pain had crawled its way back into the deepest ends of his soul and this time it was impossible to numb away.


	5. Chapter 5

Mara is sitting on her bed reading a book when Amber burst in their bedroom and says, "Joy and Mick are done!"

Mara stares at her wide-eyed in disbelief. No one could have seen that coming. "Where are they now?" she asked.

Amber shuts the door and says, "Joy wants to be alone, while Mick angrily stormed off to Carter's house party, which I don't really get why, seeing as he dumped her. But-"

Before she could finish, Mara's eyes brighten up and she shouts, "Amber, this is my chance! Maybe if I can be with Mick, I'll feel better. I've always had a thing for him."

Amber nods disapprovingly. "So what, he'll be your rebound? Because even if he does get with you, it'll only be to get over Joy. It won't be real!" Amber throws her hands up in frustration and takes a deep breath. "What about your friendship with Joy?"

Mara hadn't thought about it. Now that it came to mind, Mara hadn't thought any of this through. But this wasn't the time for thinking. She was desperate. Desperate for a chance to make the numbness go away. "Just come to the party with me, please Hales, for your best friend," she begged.

Amber looks down and nods no. Her eyes glare back up, meeting Mara's, "Just don't do something you'll regret in the morning," she says before turning away and leaving their room.

_I'll make Mick like me_, Mara thinks to herself.

* * *

Mara arrives at the party in a tight black dress she borrowed from Amber's closest, the one she was reluctant to wear to the nightclub. This was her first house party and she didn't know what to expect. She was in a house full of drunken strangers and booming music. She stumbled her way across teens making out and smoking, trying to find a familiar face, but she has no luck. Standing alone in the middle of a party, lost and left out, only makes her feel worse. That is until she notices a tipsy Mick trying hard to climb up the stairs without falling. _This is finally my chance_, Mara thinks to herself as she rushes over to Mick's side.

"Hey stranger," she whispers while grabbing his hand. Their eyes meet and her lashes flutter closed when she notices him checking her out.

"Whoa, Mara, you look hot," Mick says as he trips on the stairs, causing Mara to reach forward and support him.

_Hot_, Mara thought, _someone called me hot_. She wasn't exactly the type of girl boys referred to as "hot." She was seen as far too innocent to be sexy.

With her newly found confidence, Mara leads Mick to a vacant bedroom. He is unable to stand straight or keep his eyes open, making it hard to object. Mick leans on Mara's shoulder as she opens the door, and begins to giggle. "Where are we going?" he asks, with his hot breath gently lingering on her neck.

Mara laughs off his question. But as they enter the room, an air of fear comes over her. _Did I really think I was ready for this?_, she begins to wonder. She starts shaking and tries taking steady breaths, but before she can turn back Mick crashes his lips into hers. The kiss is desperate and lustful, his lips slobbering over hers. It wasn't what she was expecting, but it is what she came here for. She pushed him toward the bed and laid him down as she seductively crawled toward him, their kiss still intact. She broke the kiss and started slowly kissing his neck. Underneath her hot shaky breath she whispered, "Have me, Mick."

But his mind was on Joy. He placed his finger on her chin and brought her face up to his, with a drunken, sly smile he said, "But you're just a slut."

And that is when Mara broke. She cracked. Like a twig she was ripped in two, right down the middle. She swallowed hard and pushed him away. His words kept replaying in her head. Slut, slut, slut. She was just a slut. Unable to look back, Mara ran out of the room and down stairs.

_I am not weak_, Mara thought to herself. But she was shaking, with tears beginning to form in her eyes. Dammit, not this time. She could only think of one way to stop the pain, to stop the tears, and to stop hearing the word "slut" everywhere she looked: get roaring drunk.

So she had one beer, and another, and another, until she was far too drunk to keep count or remember why she was drinking in first place. But isn't that the point of alcohol? It might not be answer, but it sure as hell helps you forget the question. Little did she know, she had caught the eye of the one any only Jerome Clark. He had just wandered into the party, unsure of what he was looking for, until he saw Mara push her way out into the sidewalk. He stared at her in disbelief.

"You're fucking wasted Mara!" Jerome screams, slapping his palm to his forehead in frustration. "Look at you! You're a mess!" Mara's makeup was streaming off her face in black puddles below her eyes, her lipstick was smudged, and her hair was a mess. She could barley keep herself standing straight or stop from giggling.

"Don't be silly," Mara laughed trying to playful hit Jerome's shoulder. "I'm absolutely fine!" With that, she lost her balance and fell to the rough street. She began laughing uncontrollably. She threw her head back in laugher, not even trying to stand back up. Jerome took in a deep breath before bending down and gently lifting her into his arms. "Put me down! I am capable of standing on my own!" Mara threw a fit. She tried to punch Jerome and push him away. Before long, she gave up and let him carry her back to their dorm.

Jerome had so many questions flooding through this mind. How could a girl like Mara get drunk? Why was she at this party? Why did she smell like cologne? Soon, they made it to their dormitory and he settled her down on the couch. He silently laid her down and left her to sleep. Still shocked at the night's events, Jerome made his way downstairs and to his empty bedroom. He slammed his bedroom door shut, letting out a loud groan. He pulled his shirt of his head and flung it to the ground.

"Yum." The voice scares him and he quickly turns his head to the door. Standing in his doorway is a smirking, over-confident Mara. She leans against the door, shamelessly checking out his shirtless body. Guess someone faked being asleep, Jerome thought to himself. He didn't even hear the door open. Mara began seductively making her way over to Jerome. She stood directly in front of him; she was so close that he could feel her hot breath on his chest. She placed her soft hand delicately on his chest, sending chills down Jerome's spine. She leaned in and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on his heart. Jerome stood there frozen, expressionless, and emotionless. She continued to place hot kisses up his chest leading to his neck. "C'mon Jerome," she whispered between kisses, "touch me." She began sucking on the burning flesh of his neck, leading her way closer to his lips. "Stop," Jerome weakly demanded, he was trying desperately not to enjoy himself. She was using him to forget about whatever happened tonight. "Stop acting like this," Jerome sternly spoke.

"Like what?" Mara questioned, trailing her fingers down his abs.

"Like a slut."

Harshly, Mara pushed Jerome away form her. The tears started to sting her eyes as she yelled, "Not even you want me!" The hot, salty tears poured from her eyes and as she tired to run out of the room. Before she had a chance, a strong hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back. She found herself in a warm, safe embrace. She sobbed into his chest as he stroked her hair. "Sh," Jerome said, "sh."

As Mara started to calm down, Jerome sat her on his bed and pulled up a chair in front of her, determined to get some answers. Before he would think about asking anything, Mara had lain down and was sound asleep. Looks like this will have to wait until tomorrow.

* * *

The dim glow of the rising sun shines through the bedroom window. Light specks of yellow fill the room. Mara tries to open her eyes, but is overpowered by a pounding headache, beating at her like a drum. "Ugh," she groans. Steadily, she places her right palm on her forehead and takes a deep breath. What's wrong with me? Mara manages to pull herself up into a sitting position. Instantly, a feeling of nausea arises and she throws herself back into bed, an unfamiliar bed. Maybe I can just sleep and never wake up. Before she can close her eyes, a booming voice echoed through the room. "Mara, I want to know what happened last night."

"You and me both," Mara cruelly replies. She looks up to see Jerome sitting in a chair next to the bed, his bed. "What am I doing in your room?" Mara weakly questions. She's never felt so weak and helpless, so tired and destroyed.

"You don't remember what happened, do you? It's easier that way, to get drunk and just forget. I would know," Jerome states. He observes Mara's current state. He had yet to see her fully demolished and hopeless. She was utterly confused and hurting, as if every last piece of her has been shattered. "What happened at the party last night?"

Mara's head instantly rose up as her eyes widened. She took a deep breath and forces herself to say, "I fucked up." Jerome gave her a familiar smirk. _I know the feeling_, he thinks to himself. He nodded slightly, telling her to go on. Her distressed eyes starred directing into Jerome's as she lightly whispered, "I'm such a slut." Jerome brought his hand to her hair and stroked it gently behind her ear. "Don't say that. Let's just start with what happened at the party, okay?" Jerome said.

With one long glance into Jerome's cold, ice like blue eyes, Mara finally decided to speak. "I just wanted him to like me. So, I was stupid and thought if he'd sleep with me it would solve all my problems. But he just-" Mara stuttered, "He just said I was acting like a slut."

And in that moment it hit him. Hit him hard, like rough ocean waves on a cold winters night. He had done the same thing the boy who broke Mara did; he was just as wretched as the boy who made Mara feel worthless, he had called her a slut, too. "I'm sor-"

"Save it," Mara cut him off. "I deserved it from what I remember. That's why I went and got drunk anyway. Trust me, I'm not any better than you. I came into your room last night thinking you were the only person who would sleep with a rejected slut like me."

"I don't blame you," Jerome said. "That's who I am to everyone."

"No, Jerome not to me. Do you see this? How much of a mess I've made of myself from one night? Mick called me a slut so I started drinking, like a total idiot. I just keep getting worse" Mara hollered.

"Dammit Mara, why do you even like him so much?" Jerome spat out as he got up from his chair and pushed it in frustration.

"Because Jerome, he doesn't make me feel like I'm his second choice, like I'm second best, like I come in second place. When I talk to him, it's like I'm the only one in the room, the only person his eyes can see."

"Bullshit," Jerome hissed, every syllable coming out like venom from his mouth. "You only like him because of how people see him. That's the goddamned problem with everyone! It's always about how everyone else sees you, what others make you up to be in their heads. It's not who you are or what you are, but who they let you be. It's like they all see you through this window - this twisted, one-sided window, and its all so simple from there, right? You're either smart or stupid, pretty or ugly, a good guy or a bad guy, you're only two-dimensional. There is no depth, no real person, just an incoherent, fake image. And you're just like the rest of them, all mindlessly staring through the same twisted window." With that, Jerome rose from his chair and made his way out the room.

Without thinking, Mara stood up and ran after him. "Why do you care?" she yelled, causing Jerome to turn around and face her. "Why do you care so much? You don't make any sense! One second you're caring and compassionate and the next second you want nothing to do with me! I'm not some toy to throw around and mess with like that. I don't know what this means and I don't know what any of this is, but I know that deep down inside you're willing to be friends, or you wouldn't have been there to save me." Jerome turns and being to walk away, but stops as he hears Mara's voice again. "You're right, you know. We're all judgmental and I know it's messed up, but you're not any better. You look at me and think I'm sweet and innocent and all that bullshit, just like I see you as some druggie that parties a lot. But we both know there's more to us than that, right? It's not all black and white, there's got to be some color."

Jerome took a deep breath. "We can try," he whispered, "to be friends."


End file.
